


Dr. McCoy, meet Dr. McCoy

by weepingnaiad



Category: Star Trek (2009), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-06
Updated: 2010-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-15 10:30:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weepingnaiad/pseuds/weepingnaiad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Complete silliness for Ship Wars inspired by another picture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dr. McCoy, meet Dr. McCoy

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd comment fic and usual disclaimer applies

  


“Must have been some party, huh?”

McCoy opened his eyes at the gruff voice and immediately slammed them shut again. “I… can’t… even…” he moaned. The piercing light and hammering in his head convinced him that the blue man that had spoken was merely a figment of his imagination. That blue Andorian ale that Jim had convinced him to drink was still messing with his vision. Yeah, that was it.

“Do you need assistance? You’re looking a little green.”

McCoy felt a hand nudge his arm and that same gruff voice speaking. It had to be Jim messing with him. Getting him back for volunteering them for the Stroffian Rebirth Ritual – who knew that bathing in the ‘milk’ of the planet would lead to such intense and long lasting intoxication? McCoy doubted the _Enterprise_ would ever be allowed back in that star system again.

Suddenly cool, dry hands were pressed to McCoy’s cheeks and peeling his eyelids back. He groaned as he swatted the blue digits away. “Stop it! What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m a doctor. Upholding my Hippocratic oath.”

McCoy finally sat up even as the world tilted and his stomach lurched. He opened his eyes and glared. “You’re an alcohol fueled hallucination. You’re not real.”

The big blue… thing… smiled. At least that’s what McCoy thought it was. It actually looked more like a wolf sizing up dinner and he tried to scoot away from the blue ‘doctor’, only to be stymied by something warm and immobile which grunted as he pushed into it.

“Ngh… Bones…g’way.”

McCoy turned and looked at the lump. The Jim-shaped lump. He nudged Jim harder, still keeping one eye trained on big blue guy.

A booming laugh rattled McCoy’s teeth and he cocked his head and looked up blearily at the big blue guy. He couldn’t keep thinking of the creature-man-whatever like that and his gran raised a polite man so he stuck his hand out and said, “McCoy. Doctor Leonard McCoy. And that lump behind me is my Captain. Captain James T. Kirk.”

“McCoy? What a remarkable concurrence.” A large blue hand engulfed McCoy’s and shook it vigorously, making his bones ache. “Salutations. I am McCoy. Doctor Hank McCoy, geneticist.”

McCoy boggled. “Geneticist? Where the hell are we?”

“You’re on Earth at Xavier’s. Not sure your matter of conveyance. Wolverine dragged you in… and your friend there was spouting random words like worm holes and weddings and Vulcans and…” he paused. “Where did you say you were from?”

McCoy looked around wildly. Now that his vision was clearer he can see other interested faces peering around the opened bedroom door, all of which looked disconcertingly ‘odd’. He nudged Jim with his elbow. “Wake up!” he hissed.

“Wah?” Jim sat up, he was shirtless and his hair was sticking up all over. He looked adorable.

“It is a pleasure Captain James T. Kirk. I am Doctor McCoy.” A big blue hand was held out to Jim.

“McCoy? Bones! The ale! It turned you blue… and-and furry!”

“I’m over here, Jim. Imagine the hairballs you’d hackup if that was me.” McCoy chuckled.


End file.
